


Seven Stages of Grief

by Blissfulbroadway



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Anger, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Death, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Mental Illness, Work In Progress, angry, but all my writing is bad now so :/, really old idea I decided to finally post, stages of grief
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 19:38:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18708655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blissfulbroadway/pseuds/Blissfulbroadway
Summary: Stage 1: Anger.





	Seven Stages of Grief

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t posted in quite some time!! Life’s been busy and I’ve been thriving, but I’m bored this Saturday afternoon so here’s some writing!! It’s a really really old thing I wrote, and I only have 1 stage done but we’ll get to all 7 one day!! Enjoy (if you can)! :)

Connor Murphy killed himself.   
  
When Zoe heard those words, she cried.    
  
It was so relieving to hear them.    
  
She could finally stop pretending. Right?   
  
Wrong. The moment Cynthia hugged her and whispered that it was going to be difficult, but they’d get through it, Zoe felt anger rush through her.    
  
It would be anything but.   
  
Connor hurt her. And screamed at her. And threatened her.    
  
He even punched a hole through her door once.   
  
Suddenly a memory flashed in Zoe’s brain.   
  
_ “Connor, get out of my room,” Zoe said, annoyed. Connor’s brows were furrowed angrily and he was too bush pacing around, searching. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Get out.” Zoe repeated, sitting up and watching Connor with pursed lips. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Fuck you-“ Connor spat, grabbing Zoe’s bag and starting to dig through it.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ That was when Zoe sprang up, hands balled into fists. “What the hell are you doing?” Zoe asked, grabbing Connor’s shoulders and trying to pull him away. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Connor tugged himself out of her grasp, throwing her bag onto the ground. Papers and pencils spilled out of the open pockets. Zoe’s feelings were spilling out of her.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Tears sprang at the girl’s eyes and she held them back, her own brows furrowed. “Get the hell out of my room, Connor!” Zoe repeated, shoving Connor away. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He stumbled, but regained balance, cursing and slurring out a yell Zoe couldn’t quite understand.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Feverishly searching, Connor continued to tear open and push things off of Zoe’s desk. It was as if a tornado was ripping through his sister’s room, everything in Connor’s path breaking beneath his hands. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Zoe had tried her best to get him to stop, hitting at wherever she could get as he ruined her room looking for god knows what. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Get the hell out of my room, you asshole! Stop it!” Zoe yelled, angry tears rolling down her cheeks. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The final straw was when Connor reached for her guitar, pulling at the strings and looking inside as he tried to find some unknown object he thought Zoe had. Zoe watched, horrified, as Connor apparently got bored of it and threw the guitar to the ground, wood splintering. The instrument cracked. Zoe screamed.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The world seemed to spin too fast for anyone to comprehend. At least, for Zoe it did. _ _   
_ _   
_ And then it stopped.    
  
Connor was gone.   
  
Zoe was left alone, sobbing to herself as she picked up the broken pieces Connor had left in his wake.    
  
Zoe hated Connor.   
  
Zoe couldn’t even bear the memory without feeling a pit of anxiety in her stomach.   
  
And, when she was finally free from him and all the bad he’s done, her mother was weeping. Her mother weeped and promised she’d try to fix this big, gaping, fake hole in their family.    
  
No one would grieve over the villain. They’d move on and live life without him.    
  
Zoe only wished it were that easy.    
  
Despite her bitterness, Zoe Murphy was upset.    
  
Her own brother was dead. Gone.    
  
Connor was good. Sometimes.    
  
Thinking back, Zoe could remember plenty of happy things including her brother.    
  
_ Connor sat beside Zoe, positioned to face her halfway from where he sat, body turned at an angle.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Zoe watched with a smile as Connor positioned his fingers, not even having to look down to check where they fell on the neck of the guitar. “See? Put yours like this. Make sure they’re placed right or it sounds all wrong.” Connor explained.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Like this?” Zoe asked, looking at where Connor’s hands fell on the guitar and moving her own to mirror them. Connor smiled proudly, nodding. “Perfect, yeah. It’s an A Minor Seven chord. Real easy.” Connor said. “Now, just relax and strum and you’ll be fine. You’ll get used to it soon enough.” Connor explained.  _ _   
_   
That was years ago.   
  
Years ago, they were inseparable. Connected at the hip.   
  
Connor taught her guitar. She taught him how to paint his nails by himself. They helped one another dye their hair at home.   
  
But then one day, something changed.    
  
Connor was angry. Angry towards his parents. Angry towards school. Angry towards his friends. Angry towards Zoe. Angry.   
  
In turn, Zoe was angry. Inside, she was so fucking angry.    
  
Connor became nothing but an empty husk, protected by anger and filled with nothing inside. He gave up trying. He gave up.   
  
Zoe was so angry about that. Her brother was supposed to be strong. Good. Kind. What the hell did they do to make him so angry?   
  
Nothing.    
  
That was the worst part. They did nothing, and yet he was so angry towards them.    
  
Zoe didn’t think they deserved it.    
  
Even after he was gone, though, Zoe Murphy couldn’t help but sit in her room some nights. She just sat, staring at her patched-up door and blaming herself.    
  
She made Connor angry, didn’t she?   
  
It was her fault, wasn’t it?   
  
_ “It’s all your fucking fault! You ruined my life!” Connor screamed behind the door.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Zoe winced at his words, although she rushed to stick the chair under her doorknob, keeping it closed.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “You’re a fucking bitch! I hate you! You ruined my life!” Connor pounded his fists relentlessly on the door. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Zoe stifled any noises, wiping at her face and sniffling into her elbow. She hid in the far corner of her room, away from the door and under her desk. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I’m going to fucking kill you, Zoe! Open the fucking door!” Connor continued to hit at her door, jiggling the doorknob between strikes. “Open the door before I slit your fucking throat! You fucking bitch!”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Her brother was a psychopath.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Zoe was terrified. _ _   
_   
Zoe didn’t do anything. She was a teenager and he was a teenager. Teenagers didn’t just get angry for no reason, though.   
  
Connor was sick. But no one really realized it. He was sick and unwell.    
  
He never sneezed or coughed or had a fever.    
  
His brain was just fucked up.    
  
He was angry.    
  
Zoe was angry that he was angry. Then he became angry at her because she was angry that he was angry. It was a cycle of anger.    
  
When the cycle broke, the anger would all go to one person.    
  
Connor was dead. It went to Zoe.    
  
She was angry.    
  
_ “No, Connor wasn’t very nice, so that makes sense.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Connor was...he was a complicated person.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “No, Connor was a bad person. There’s a difference.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Zoe, please-“ _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “You refuse to remember any of the good things. You refuse to see anything positive.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “There were no good things. What were the good things?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I don’t want to have this conversation in front of our guest.” _ __   
  
No one listened to her. No one listened to her rage. To her comments. Icy, sharp replies. The requiems she refused to sing to the ghost who haunted her every dreams.   
  
Her life was a fucking nightmare.   
  
She couldn’t even shake him off. She was the dead kids sister. She was popular in the worst way possible.    
  
She didn’t deserve to be stuck like this.    
  
Why the hell did her brother have to make everything so messy once he died?


End file.
